Incendio
by Marble Meadow
Summary: HPHG One-shot intended but possibly more. Lemons! Smut! Adults only! Some slight angst at the beginning and a moral dilemma at the end. Sometimes there are consequences to indulging in passion. Complete in three chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Incendio

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters…I just like to take them out to play. The plot is mine but that's it! Mature audiences only please!

_Incendio_

"Please don't do it Harry," she begged, falling to her knees.

He stood, shaking from head to toe, his own wand pointing at his chest.

"They're dead Hermione; dead in my place. I won't allow that to happen again," he told her, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"But you killed that despot! He can't hurt anyone else! Please Harry, give me your wand. I'm begging you…"

"Why? It's pointless now. I can't feel anything at all. There's nothing left."

"You're wrong!" She shouted as she surged to her feet. She rushed forward and tackled him to the ground.

He groaned as his back hit the dirt. "You're only…delaying…the inevitable," he panted.

"You imbecile. You stupid, horrible, selfish prat!" She yanked his wand away from him and gave him an icy glare.

"Would you rather do it then? I won't fight you."

She slapped him, hard.

His eyes opened wide in astonishment.

"Did you feel _that_? Huh Harry?" She leaned down and slapped him again.

He glared up at her. "No."

She shrieked in frustration and did the only thing her mind could come up with. She leaned down and crushed her lips to his.

He was like stone, unyielding beneath her. She demanded with lips and teeth and tongue that he _feel_ this. She was unrelenting in her tirade and began to move her body over his, pushing against him, rubbing herself along his still form, trying to elicit some sort of response. Just when she thought it truly was over…that there was no life left…she felt his hands grip her hips.

So much for not fighting back…

But he wasn't pushing her away. He was controlling her movements, forcing her to slow down. She opened her eyes in shock to a welcome sight. His eyes were staring into hers, steadily, sparking with life, with green fire.

Hermione hesitated only a moment but it was enough that he reached up and pulled her down, down to his lips. He captured her, and demanded that she give it her all. His movements were frantic, and he clung to her like a dying man clinging to a life raft…

His hands, pinning her down began to move over her form, up her slender torso, her ribs and finally her aching breasts. She gasped as he brushed his thumbs over her nipples, igniting a delicious tingling all through her body.

Suddenly, the sensation of touch wasn't enough. Harry began to grapple with her clothes, frantically pulling them away and inch by inch he feasted on her slowly emerging skin. Beautifully pale, and impossibly smooth, her abdomen was sleek, and tight, a delicate crease dividing it in half, a thin slit of a belly button below. He traced patterns on the supple flesh and she cried out when he lifted himself, still holding her and began kissing his way up her body. His lips were greedy, suckling her flesh as he nibbled and licked his way up her core to her breasts. He took one lush breast into his mouth as much as possible, teething on the taut nipple and her moans spurned him on. He thoroughly tasted that breast before moving to the other, lathing her nipple with swirls of his wet tongue. She gripped the back of his head in her need.

All the while, Hermione was moving over him, grinding her center against his, moving her mound over the hard bump in his trousers. She could barely concentrate with Harry worshipping her chest the way he was, but a deeper instinct spurned her to push him away. She stood shakily and shrugged out of her denims. He watched, awestruck as she emerged, a pale, perfect nymph here in this cave by the sea.

His eyes feasted on her nude form, the perfectly formed breasts, and the subtle swell of her hips, to rest on that dark, glistening patch between her creamy thighs. Without realizing it, he vanished his clothing and was crawling over to her. His hands glided along her flesh, up her lovely legs and over her womanly hips. His hands roamed her front and then down her back, over her tight arse and down again.

"Harry…I need you," she whimpered lustfully.

"Not as much as I need you," he responded huskily, rising from the ground. He pressed his nude form against hers and she trembled in response. The length of her small, feminine body huddled against his was all it took before he found himself rubbing her center.

She was slick with arousal and he groaned as he felt his way to the slippery button that caused her to cry out again, this time a near shriek. He played with her for an indefinable moment before allowing his hands to slide down further. His greedy fingers plundered her and she moaned and bucked against his advance. Her quim clenched around his fingers and he couldn't wait any longer.

He released her and pulled her down to the ground beneath him in one smooth movement.

She stared up at him in wonder and brushed a dark lock of his hair out of his eyes.

"Fuck me Harry," she whispered.

He pressed himself between her thighs and guided himself to her entrance. He pushed, curling his toes, and felt the tight, warm center of hers give, to allow him purchase. He cried out as he found himself buried inside her. She was impossibly hot, amazingly smooth, from the inside out…

"What are you waiting for?" She demanded attention, arching her hips against his.

He gave her a devilish look, "Are you sure that's what you want?"

She nodded, frustrated.

He grinned and then began to move his hips against hers. She moaned and he began to pump into her, sliding in and out over and over. She arched and bucked beneath him, her pussy clenching around him. He felt as though he was close from the moment he found himself inside of her but he was determined to make it last as long as he could.

He ground himself into her, spearing her with his cock again and again.

"Faster, Harry please…."

He complied, pistoning into her with all the advantages of youth. Her hands raked down his back and he allowed a little more of his weight to rest on her.

"Yes…yes…"

Her breathless moans were driving him to madness. He closed his eyes, concentrating only on her body; this body that he'd wanted for so long…

_I'm fucking her. I'm fucking Hermione…Gods…it's better than I ever imagined it to be… _

His scrotum grew tight. He held on, barely, trying desperately to think of anything other than the warm, squirming sight of naked Hermione in front of him, his cock penetrating her slippery quim with ease.

She stared up at him, her head thrown back, her body arching, desperate, and madly trying to ride him as he was driving into her. It felt like heaven, being filled, again, and again. Harry drove into her with a mad look in his eyes, a haggard expression on his face. He became feral, unbalanced, and wholly unstoppable in those last few moments.

The slick sound of their sex filled the tiny space and then, as one, they sped up, each searching for their own nirvana, and finding it in one another. She screamed obscenities while he merely grunted and groaned as he milked the last of his semen inside of her.

Their bodies collapsed then and the only sound in the cave was their breathing raggedly.

Slowly, Hermione's mind returned to her and the delicious melting sensation in her body ebbed away. Harry had closed his eyes and fallen asleep. His chest rose and fell with a slow pattern.

Hermione watched him for a few minutes and then stood shakily. She_ accio'd_ her clothing and dressed herself, suddenly embarrassed. Her cheeks flamed with shame as she thought of how she had seduced him.

It hadn't been her intention to do so…she just hadn't been able to think of another way to snap him out of it.

Oh dear Lord. What was Ronald going to say?

Hermione bit her lip and shook her head, deep in thought. There was no way that he could know about this…he would go ballistic. Not when he had his own demonic forces of jealousy to contend with. Hermione had to put up with it for years…his self-deprication and his inner loathing of the fame and fortune of the Boy-Who-Lived. This would make everything infinitely worse.

She made the decision then, to lie, and to forget that this ever happened. She decided to go home, to her new husband and her perfectly plotted life.

But fate would not forget, nor would destiny.

Things had changed forever, and never again would Hermione see the same desperate friend she had followed to the cave.

Harry would not let her escape unscathed; not when she had turned his world upside down.

_Author's note: So what did you all think? I'm usually not one for smut without a plot but this seemed kind of fun. Not sure if another chapter will come or not…guess that depends on you!_


	2. Chapter 2

Incendio II

A month had passed but it seemed like yesterday.

Hermione sat on the porch swing and stared out at the expanse, trying to forget, _again_. Firefly's danced in the heat of the summer evening, and seemed to fill their backyard with a million tiny stars. She watched them flit through the overgrown grass and play in the hedges.

"Mione?"

She didn't even turn her head, but he was used to that by now. He sat next to her on the swing. For a long time, neither of them spoke.

"What's happened?" He asked in a whisper. "What's happened to you? Why don't you even talk to me anymore?"

She sighed and wished he would just leave her alone. She wrapped her arms around herself and forced herself to be quiet, to not say the words that had been building like an inferno inside of her for so long. _Ron…I can't take it anymore…_

But he was persistent.

"Hermione, you need to talk to me! I'm your husband!" He stood up with a jerk and nearly toppled the swing over. He stood in front of her and took her chin in his hand, none to gently.

"Let go of me Ronald." _Have you forgotten I can hex you six ways to Sunday?_

"Not until you tell me where my wife is! Who the hell are you? You don't talk, you don't eat, you don't sleep. It's like your personality vanished! It's like you're a robot."

She stared at him, devoid of emotion.

"Don't you love me?"

After a month of waiting, he'd finally asked the dreaded question. She'd been paranoid for so long that to hear it was actually a shock to her system. She knew, deep down, that she'd never loved Ron. Not the way he loved her. She just hadn't known anything, or anyone else would want her.

So she'd chosen the easy thing, the thing that seemed to make the most sense. At least she would be married to someone she considered a friend.

But even their friendship was suffering now. Because she was weak. Because she couldn't forget. Because her every waking moment was spent thinking about Harry.

She'd never considered that he would ever, ever want someone like her. She wasn't like Cho, or like Ginny. Those women had passion and beauty in spades. She was simple, bookish, unassuming and somewhat of a nonentity. At least she had been…until that night in the cave.

For the first time in a long time…she'd felt alive. To feel him on top of her, inside of her, in the most intimate way, his green eyes boring into her own…that had been living.

Now, to go back to her previous existence seemed impossible.

Ron was still waiting.

She lifted her head and looked at him. A tiny tear escaped from the corner of her eye, the only emotion she could bear to show in front of him. _I do not love you._

He read the answer in that one tear.

"I don't understand," he said as he let his hand fall away from her face. He turned and stared out at the yard, trying to keep himself together. He had known when she'd agreed to marriage that her heart hadn't been in it. But he'd been banking on changing her mind, and her heart. She was dreadfully unhappy and he couldn't fix it because she wouldn't let him in. Giving her one last, searching look, he turned toward the house but stopped after a moment.

"I want you to be happy. Whatever that means. I can't force you to love me and I'm tired of trying."

He walked inside, leaving her alone on the porch and then she heard him talking to someone on the Floo network. His voice was sad and somewhat broken. She hoped that whoever he was talking to could help him because she just couldn't. Not now.

Hours later, she finally forced herself up from the swing. She was afraid that if she didn't move, she would turn into stone. Not really knowing what she was doing, she walked into the house and up the winding staircase. She lit the tip of her wand and cast _Muffliato_ on herself.

She packed her belongs, being careful not to wake the man snoring in their bed.

As a last token, she left a note, along with her wedding bracelet.

She stepped into the night, unsure of where she was going, or what she would do now.

For the first time in a long time, she felt as though she could breathe.

Harry paced in his flat, agitated. He was trying to decipher what Ron had meant over the Floo. What was happening to Hermione?

Harry was afraid, moreso than he had been in a long time. What if she was sick? Ron said she wasn't eating or sleeping. Merlin knew he wasn't getting those things either but he could handle it.

Harry made up his mind to go there tomorrow. He had to see her with his own eyes. It had been a month since he'd seen her, felt her, and woke up with her name hovering on his lips only to find the cave silent and cold.

Afterward he'd tried to contact her, had sent numerous letters that had returned back to him unopened. The only thing he received was a short, terse note written in her elegant script telling him to please stop.

That note had made him more furious than he cared to admit. The only thing that stopped him from burning it immediately and blocking her out of his mind were the tiny water stains all over the parchment. She'd cried over this. At the very least, she cared that she was breaking his heart.

He'd lain awake night after night, thinking of nothing but her. He tried to rewind his life, from the first moment when he met her, and every moment following. Some memories were fuzzy, dulled from time, distance, and varied with the amount of attention he'd paid. Frustrated one sleepless night, he'd poured the entirety of his time from the first time he'd seen the Hogwart's express on and relived his life moment by moment.

He watched Hermione and tried to decipher her actions. There were things he'd missed before, that he now saw with painful clarity. He saw her kissing his forehead at the lake challenge during fourth year, and giving him secretive smiles at the Yule Ball. She'd grabbed him in a bone crushing hug before the dragon challenge as well. He noticed how tightly she clung to him when they were riding the back of Buckbeak and how she gave him short, secretive glances in class that he'd never noticed before.

He saw how she tried to fight back words many times, when he'd been going on about Cho or about Ginny.

He'd been an idiot.

When he had finally pulled back out of the pensieve; he realized he'd been bent over for nearly an entire day. His neck and back were tight but he wasn't comfortable not having her in his thoughts when he went to sleep. He needed the memories of her…they were all he had.

After finally giving into his long standing exhaustion, he'd managed to get out of bed and eat something. His stomach roiled and protested at the insult of food and the sudden anxiety he felt.

Ron and Hermione weren't dating…they were married. Harry found this particularly vile to think about. How had _Ron_ managed to get _Hermione_? If he'd had any kind of intelligence at all, he would have seen her for the amazing jewel that she was. Why did Hermione marry him? They fought incessantly. Hermione had confided in him often about all of their problems. She'd even admitted that on her wedding day she wanted to run away.

What did any of it mean? Did it really matter? She had chosen to stay with Ron after all and had left Harry to his misery.

He thought of all these things again, but couldn't bring him to move forward. She'd done something to him, something irreversible. He knew he loved her.

With determination gleaming in his eye, he _accio'd_ his cloak. He knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn't let her go; even if it meant he lost Ron's friendship. Hermione was too important. And after she'd heard what he had to say and if she still decided to stay with Ron…well…then that was her decision and Harry would have to accept it. He hoped he could move her enough to convince her to leave.

Feeling slightly off kilter and full of adrenaline, Harry _apparated_.

He landed with a pop and ducked under his invisibility cloak. The house was dark and quiet. Harry crept up the stairs and saw Ron sleeping alone in bed. Harry was getting ready to search the rest of the house when he heard footsteps that suddenly stopped.

She appeared silently in the door and began moving around the bedroom. She was hastily throwing items into her bottomless bag with an indecipherable expression on her face. She then went to her writing desk and wrote a short note to Ron and slipped off her wedding band and left them on the nightstand.

Harry's heart lurched as he watched her. He couldn't find it in himself to move. What he was witnessing was something he wished he hadn't seen.

Though he felt painfully alive and relieved to see her, he was also worried for her. Hermione hadn't been happy or sad, just matter of fact. She looked like she hadn't eaten in a month and there were dark circles under her dull, brown eyes. Her hair looked like a rat's nest.

He didn't understand why she wasn't taking care of herself, but he was determined to help. He followed her down the stairs and out to the garden. She set her bag down on the ground and looked around carefully.

"Harry, you may as well come out of there," she told him quietly.

He sheepishly emerged from beneath his hiding spot.

"How many times have I told you to cast _Muffliato_ when you're under that thing?"

He didn't bother to answer her question but took the three steps separating them and pulled her body close, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her nose and her mouth briefly before pulling her back to look into her eyes.

They were bright now, shining in wonder, looking up at him.

"Will you come with me?" He asked her softly, tracing the curve of her jaw.

She seemed to choked up to answer but nodded yes.

"I'm going to apparate us, all right?"

She held her hand out to him. He took her small, cold hand in his large, warm one and picked up her bag with his other hand. He spun on the spot and they _apparated_ away in a rush of wind.

They landed at his flat and Harry took another long moment before releasing her.

He hung her bag on the coat rack and taking her hand, led her to the sofa.

They stared at one another for a long time.

"I've missed you," Hermione whispered after an eternity of silence. _I love you…_

Harry didn't answer her but moved forward and caught her lips with his own. He kissed her softly, slowly, savoring the unique tenderness of her lips molded against his. He began to show her, physically, how much he needed her.

He released her lips with reluctance but began to move onto other, equally beautiful parts. He nuzzled her between the crook of her shoulder and her neck and began to place tiny kisses against the column of her throat.

She moaned in appreciation and he felt her response all the way down in his toes. He kissed her, through the fabric of her blouse, her breasts, her stomach and lower. He moved down on the sofa, worshipping her with every fiber of his being. He barely noticed when the fabric seemed to melt away to be replaced by her satiny skin.

"Harry, I need you. I need you."

He looked up at her from his perch between her legs. Her eyes were lidded, her lips parted, her face flushed. He allowed himself the luxury of moving away from her face, down the sleek length of her body. Whereas before she was soft and all curves, now she seemed hollow in places, hard in others. He traced over each protruding rib. Even in this horrific state, she was beautiful.

"Make love to me," she begged softly.

He closed his eyes as though heaven had answered a prayer. He moved up over her, hovering and allowing himself to barely touch her, his hard chest against her soft breasts. He nudged her legs apart and took one final moment to make sure she was as ready as she claimed before he allowed himself to enter her.

He cried out as her warmth seemed to seep into his core. Her heat wrapped around him like a glove and he felt as though he was home.

He began thrusting, his instincts guiding him, his pleasure index on overdrive. He fell into her warm body again and again and she gasped as he filled her with his hard and hungry length.

_Mine, mine, mine…_

"Oh God's Harry!" She screamed out as she peaked, her head thrown back, her body clenched tight all around him. Her walls fluttered over him and he had to bite his lip lest he should distract her from her climax.

He waited, a nearly impossible task, for her to come back down to earth. As sanity returned to her eyes, she grinned at him saucily and he felt his heart start to race. Gently she scooted backward and his cock fell from between her legs, hitting the fabric of the sofa beneath. He was bewildered until she helped him sit up. She knelt between his legs and his mouth opened in shock.

She took the base of his cock in her hand and guided her mouth over him.

Her mouth closing over his cock was nearly his undoing. Waves of hot pleasure raced through him and his flesh broke out in goosebumps. But it was nothing compared to when she began to move. Her lips slid over him, squeezing and releasing as her tongue danced over the sensitive underside of his cock. She sucked and licked, and even nibbled along his length while he thrashed about in pleasure so great that it was almost oblivion.

Flicking her tongue over his swollen head brought forth a surge of precum that she daintily licked from his weeping cock.

"Fuck Hermione…Gods…you are so fucking…hot…"

She stopped then and looked up at him, her eyes wide eyed and innocent as his cock filled her mouth.

He groaned at the sight and she released him.

Words of protest were quickly discounted when she stood up and straddled him. She guided his hard length to her quim and primly sat upon him.

Feeling her lovely pussy engulfing him caused a reaction he hadn't expected. He slammed up to meet her and began pumping into her. She bounced up and down on his cock and he had to hold her hips so that she didn't fly off.

She seemed startled but pleased and began moaning his name as he thrust into her heat with wild abandon.

She leaned forward then, her hair a riot of curls around her head, and her nails embedded themselves in his shoulders.

He didn't care but continued thrusting. _So close, so close…_

She tightened around him unexpectedly and he couldn't stop himself. His cock seemed to burst with a life all its own and filled her tight little quim with his cum. She shuddered against him and he held her still as his cock continued to jerk, emptying itself inside of her.

Finally he allowed himself to take a breath. He gasped for air and stared up at her. He moved the riot of curls away, and tucked them back behind her ears. He stared at her.

She was flushed, her pale skin angry and red, her bosom heaving. She too was panting and coated in a light sheen of sweat.

_Hermione…I love you…_

He wanted to say it, needed to say it, but wondered if it might be too soon.

She made up his mind for him when she sank forward onto him and out of nowhere began to cry.

He held her tight as she sobbed and her hands clutched him close.

She began to babble incoherently, her words muffled by his chest.

"Shhh…" He patted her back awkwardly and rubbed soothing circles on her back.

He heard "I'm sorry…I was…so…stupid."

He finally understood what she was doing. He pushed her back gently and took in the sight of her, eyes watering, nose running and a miserable expression on her otherwise beautiful face.

"You've nothing to be sorry for. Do you understand me? I have never been as thankful as I am than right now. Don't you go spoiling it." He gave her a gentle smile.

Her mouth curved upwards. "Well when you put it like that…"

"Let's get you cleaned up."

She sat up and Harry stood carefully. He took her hand and led her into the loo. With a few muttered words, he drew a nice hot bath. He charmed the water so that it circulated and remained hot.

Hermione surprised him by saying a few spells of her own. The room was bathed in candlelight, and the water now smelled like vanilla.

He helped her into the bath and she sank in, sighing in pleasure. Then she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"Aren't you coming in?"

"Give me just a moment."

He left her to soak in the tub and headed into the kitchen. He pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses and hurried to return to her.

She grinned as she saw what he had and he maneuvered himself into the tub across from her, balancing the bottle. Harry set the items to hover and poured her a measure of fine red wine. She took the glass and waited while he filled his own, and set the bottle aside.

"To you Harry," she lifted her glass in a toast.

"To us," he correct her.

_Author's note: I changed the last few paragraphs because I switched tenses. Sorry about that! It happens sometimes. Thanks to you reviewers who caught my mistakes! Also I will be continuing this story because I feel inspired now. =)  
_


	3. Chapter 3

Incendio III

After the lovely bath, Harry summoned two white fluffy towels from the linen closet. He wrapped Hermione up first, ensuring that she was bundled up nicely before tying the towel around his waist.

"So," Hermione said, a little anxiously, "now what?"

"Well, I normally down a shot of Ogden's, and then try unsuccessfully to sleep. But tonight, I think I may be able to just brush my teeth and go to bed. Would you care to join me? Or did you have something else in mind?"

She blushed. "That sounds wonderful."

"I have a spare toothbrush somewhere…"

"No need. I packed everything I needed."

Harry turned to her. "So you're really leaving him for good?"

She stared at him soberly. "I have to. He's miserable, and I'm miserable when I'm with him. We just don't work in a relationship. We really should have stayed friends."

Harry nodded, understanding what she meant. He'd never understood Hermione's attraction to the oafish and gluttonous Ron. Harry forced himself to not scowl at the thought.

"Well, if you'd like I can quickly finish what I need to and wait for you in the bedroom?"

Hermione nodded and sat on the side of the tub, watching as Harry quickly, but thoroughly, brushed his teeth. He rinsed with mouthwash and placed his toothbrush in a small glass sitting on the sink.

"You don't floss?" Hermione asked.

"Nah. I thought I'd deliberately drive you insane. Actually, erm, I don't have any at the moment."

"Well, I'm not a dentist's daughter for nothing."

She summoned her bag and pulled a variety of items from within. She set her various toiletries on the side of the sink, and handed Harry a tin of floss.

Harry sighed good-naturedly and allowed himself to be cowed. He flossed with her precise instructions, and then left her alone to tend to her needs.

For the first night in a month, the bed actually looked inviting. Harry cast a variety of cleansing spells on the sheets and made the bed up the Muggle way, turning down the comforter the way Aunt Petunia always did. He grimaced slightly at the thought, and changed his mind, moving the bedding into casual disarray. He wanted Hermione to be comfortable.

A few minutes later, Hermione emerged from the bathroom wearing a short cotton nightgown with embroidered fireflies along the hem. They had been sewn with magical thread and danced along the seam, giving off a faint flicker of light as they moved. Her hair was still damp and hung over her shoulders like ivy on a trellis, curling and twisting beautifully in every direction. Her skin was pearlescent, and slightly flushed. Whether it was from the bath or the sex, he didn't know. All he knew was that he loved seeing her framed in the doorway.

"Do you prefer one side over the other?" Harry asked politely, gesturing toward the bed.

"Well at home…" she stopped short, her eyes alarmed.

Harry froze for a moment but then regained his composure. He went for the casual approach. "Right or left?"

"Left, if you don't mind. Really it doesn't matter much to me."

Harry smiled. "I generally prefer the right side myself."

Hermione gave him a soft smile and crossed the threshold.

Harry stepped around her and walked over to the other side of the bed. He sat down, and took his glasses off, placing them on the nightstand.

Hermione slipped into the bed, pulling the sheets up to just beneath her chin.

Harry turned to face her. "Are you all right? Do you need anything?"

She turned toward him. "Just you."

He flashed a grin and moved toward her, opening his arm and indicating that she should move into his embrace.

She slid into his open arms with a sigh of relief. His arms felt like a protective circle, holding her in, and defending her against the rest of the world. It felt more like home than anything ever had. Though she fought to stay awake, it had been a long time since she'd been able to sleep, and it was only moments before she was pulled under.

Harry watched her drift off into sleep, a look of peace and contentment on her face. He watched her sleep for nearly an hour, her soft sighs making him feel very protective of her. She was so small, lying here in the darkness in his arms. He was never going to let anything hurt her ever again, not if he could help it.

"I love you," he murmured softly before finally closing his eyes.

It was early morning, judging by the hazy grey light filtering in through the window. Hermione blinked slowly, trying to get her eyes to focus properly. A strong arm held her about the waist, and a soft snoring blew the curls at the back of her neck into a little dance with each exhalation.

Hermione couldn't believe that she had actually done it. After such a long time, she'd finally summoned the nerve to leave her "perfect" life behind. In reality it was as far from perfect as it could get. She didn't regret it, not one bit. For once she was doing what she wanted to do, rather than what everyone else expected her to do. The sense of freedom was profound.

Slowly, so as not to wake Harry, Hermione slipped from the bed, inch by inch, until she was free of his arm. She hurried to the loo and relieved her bladder before crossing to the sink and splashing cold water on her face. She wiped away the droplets with a small towel and stared at her reflection.

She looked so pale, so gaunt. All the roundness of her face was gone, replaced by sharp angles. Even though she'd had a wonderful night of sleep, there still remained the evidence of many sleepless nights, illustrated by the raccoon like dark circles beneath her eyes. Her lips were chapped and looked lifeless. Her hair was brittle and frayed, and looked like a haystack.

"This is not good," she murmured to her reflection.

Thinking back to Sixth year, and watching some of the other girls doing their morning routine, Hermione recalled several spells that would help her appearance, at least until she could naturally make up for the damage she had done over the past four weeks. She pulled her wand from within it's special pocket, that she had carefully sewn into all of her garments. With a flick of her wand, her hair had a finer texture, and the tangles were gone. She practiced the wand movements of the next spell a few times before casting, just to be sure. Her lips were moist, plump, and had some of their natural color back. Concentrating hard, she removed the circles under her eyes with a glamour. It wasn't quite perfect, she hadn't used it many times, but it improved her appearance dramatically.

There wasn't much she could do about the obvious thinness of her face, but Hermione felt much better leaving the loo than when she'd gone in.

Harry was sitting up in bed when Hermione walked in.

"Oh my God. It was real," he whispered.

Hermione grinned at him. "Yes it was."

"And you're still here."

Hermione's smile waned.

Harry stumbled from the bed, his arms outstretched. "No don't take it like that! I'm always an idiot in the morning. What I meant to say was thanks. Thank you so much for still being here. You can stay forever. I would love that you know. For you to be here looking like this every day for the rest of forever…"

Hermione silenced his babbling with a quick kiss on the lips.

Harry looked down at her, studying her face in the early light of morning. She looked different.

"Hermione? Are you wearing a glamour?"

Hermione flushed in embarrassment. "Yeah…"

"What for?" Harry demanded, outraged.

"I'm not exactly looking my best…"

Harry protested by picking her up off the floor and kissing her soundly. "You are perfect."

Hermione squirmed, not used to being enfolded in a crushing embrace. "Ow, you're hurting my ribs."

He let go of her immediately with a sheepish look. "Sorry. I just want you to know that I think you're beautiful. You don't need that, really."

Hermione sighed, feeling slightly apprehensive. Last night she'd been able to hide her appearance in the dark, but now, in the sobering light of day, would he still feel that she was beautiful, even without the extra spells?

There was only one way to find out. "_Finite Incantatum_."

The spells melted away and Hermione looked at the ground, ashamed at her unkempt appearance.

Harry studied her posture for a moment before tilting her chin up with his finger. He studied her face reverently. "You're lovely as you are right this minute. With proper food and rest, you'll be even more beautiful. Well, I'm not sure that's possible but I guess we'll have to see…"

"Shut up." Hermione laughed at his attempt to make her feel better.

"There's that smile. I've missed it." Harry looked at her, all traces of humor gone from his face.

Hermione sobered under his stare.

Harry shook himself out of it. "I need to use the loo, but then, breakfast?"

"That sounds nice."

"I don't actually have much food in the apartment, but we can go out or to the market."

Hermione nodded in agreement and waited for him to leave the room before getting dressed for the day.

Meanwhile, Harry held a staring contest with the mirror in the bathroom before grinning cockily. "You lucky bastard," he told his reflection.

Grinning, Harry left to find Hermione. He wanted to take her to a nice restaurant for a filling breakfast and then, who knew? All he knew was that he wanted to stay by her side forever. It didn't matter what they did, as long as they were together.


End file.
